Satis Shroff (Germany)

Satis Shroff (Germany)
 
Satis Shroff is based in Freiburg (poems, fiction, non-fiction) and has studied Zoology and Botany in Nepal, Medicine and Social Sciences in Germany and Creative Writing in Freiburg and the United Kingdom. He describes himself as a mediator between western and eastern cultures and sees his future as a writer and poet. He lectures in Basle (Switzerland) and in Germany at the Academy for Medical Professions (University Klinikum He was awarded the Social Engagement Prize of Green City Freiburg and was nominated by Stadt Freiburg for the German Social Engagement Prize 2011 in Berlin. Satis Shroff was awarded the Heimatmedaille Baden-Württemberg 2018 for his contributions to literature and heimatpflege. He received the Pablo Neruda Award 2017, as well as the German Academic Exchange Prize.
 
 
GROW WITH LOVE
 
Love yourself
Accept yourself,
For self-love and self-respect
Are the basis of joy, emotion
And spiritual well being.
 
Watch your feelings,
Study your thoughts
And your beliefs,
For your existence
Is unique and beautiful.
 
You came to the world alone
And you go back alone.
But while you breathe
You are near
To your fellow human beings,
Families, friends and strangers
As long as you are receptive.
 
Open yourself to lust and joy,
To the wonders of daily life and Nature.
Don’t close your door to love.
If you remain superficial,
You’ll never reach its depth.
 
Love is more than a feeling.
Love is also passion and devotion.
 
Grow with love and tenderness.
 
 
 
BLUE ALEMANNIC EYES
 
She had short, golden hair
Tied neatly behind
With a blue satin-scarf.
And yet I saw her
Wearing a diadem
And a flowing satin gown,
Like a princess.
 
A meek, submissive smile
A movement of her fair hair
Akin to a Bolshoi ballerina
In moments of embarrassment and coyness.
Her blue Alemannic eyes, sweet and honest
They knew no intrigue,
Neither treachery nor rebellion.
‘I was brought up to obey, ’ she whispered.
 
Pure bliss and love sublime,
A book you could read.
Plain and straight,
And not in-between the lines.
 
An openness, and yet
She’s resolute and seeks
Perhaps stability
Or security?
 
A neglected childhood
With pain and punishment.
A legacy of the Black Forest
Nevertheless, she remained
Soft and tender,
Submissive and sincere.
Not demanding and aggressive
Ever alert and considerate.
 
Murmurs and sighs filled the air.
Love became stormy and frantic.
Sweat and aphrodisiac mingled,
To create a moment of magic,
To recede in moans and whispers
And a thousand kisses.
 
Brought to reality
By the rays of the dying sun
And the sudden noise
Of birds coming home to roost.
A tranquillity after the tumult
Within our passionate souls.
 
 
 
* * *
 
My husband is mad
Er spinnt
Er ist verrückt! ‘
Says Frau Fleckenstein, my landlady,
As she staggers down the steps,
In her blue satin negligée.
 
She arrests her swaying
With a hiccup
And says: ‘Entschuldigen Sie’
And throws up her misery,
Discontent, melancholy and agony.
The pent-up emotions,
Of a forty year married life.
 
Her husband is a high-brow,
An honourable man
A professor with a young blonde mistress.
And she has her bottles:
Red wine, white wine
Burgunder, Tokay and Ruländer
Schnaps, Whiskey,
Kirschwasser and Feuerwasser
The harder the better.
 
She defends herself
She offends herself
With bitterness and eagerness.
Her looks are gone
Once her asset, now a liability.
A leathery skin, and bags under the eyes
Her hair unkempt, and a pot belly.
A bad liver and a surplus of spleen,
A fairy turned a grumbler.
 
Tension charges the air
Pots and pans flying everywhere
Fury and frustration
Tumult and verbal terror
Rage and rancour
Of a marriage gone asunder.
And what remains is a façade,
Of a professor and his spouse
Grown grey and ‘grausam.’
Faces that say: Guten Tag
When it’s cloudy, stormy, hurricane.
 
To forgive and forget
That’s human folly.
‘I will bear my grudges, ‘ says milady.
And my landlord is indeed a lord.
A lord over his wealth, wife and wretched life
A merciless, remorseless, pitiless existence
In the winter of their lives.
Too old to divorce
And too young to die.
What remains is only the lie.
 

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